


Try as I May

by TheUnicornFountain



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Blue Arrow, Gen, shoebill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4017106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnicornFountain/pseuds/TheUnicornFountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story based in my <em>Blue Arrow</em> universe, with an ever-so-brief look at the end into <em>Undertow;</em> the eventual sequel that will tell the story of Link's and Ganondorf's journey together during those four years before Link returned alone to Hyrule.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Try as I May

**Author's Note:**

> I was looking into shoebills for a brief scene in a different _Zelda_ fanfiction I'm writing when I came across a YouTube video about the birds that for some reason got stuck in my head. I started thinking about a scene inspired by the video, and it resulted in this short story.

# Try as I May

The clatter of cutlery against a breakfast tray broke the quiet morning air in Link’s bedroom. The noise ceased when Impa lowered the tray to the bedside table. It was replaced seconds later by birdsong and the sound of the castle help working the gardens; the Sheikah nurse had opened a window.

Link opened his shadowed eyes and studied the tray with a level of scrutiny far beyond what one would expect from a nine-year-old. 

Impa caught the expression when she turned around, and she braced her hands on her hips with a sigh. “Now _min kilthei_ I don’t want to see that look,” she scolded. Link covered his head with his sheet, and Impa took a seat on the edge of the bed. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. Come on, come on out.” 

Impa tugged the sheet down, and Link’s head reemerged with a groan. It was his first sound in days, and Impa laughed. “Hey,” she called, and Link spared here a sidelong look. “Princess Zelda is with her parents today. They’re going to see the Gorons. That means you and I can spend the day together. But you have to eat first.”

Link’s gaze shifted to the plate. A hand snuck out and speared a forkful of omelet that vanished into his mouth with haste. 

“Sit up, or you’ll choke,” Impa warned. Link pushed himself up and dragged the tray into his lap. His nurse kissed his forehead before leaving him to his breakfast.

#

There were signs of a coming storm on the distant horizon, but that didn’t stop Link and Impa from enjoying themselves outside the castle walls. After breakfast, they went into town to see what new sights the market day had brought. Link wandered off frequently when his curiosity distracted him, or when he wasn’t fond of the direction Impa was heading in; especially when said direction led to a thick gathering of people.

One of the new things to see was a traveling sideshow that had set up for the day in one of Castle Town’s larger common squares. The posters nailed to the shrouded attractions promised the land’s wildest creatures waited inside. 

Impa had begun her fifth search for Link when the boy took hold of her hand and dragged her towards the sideshow's ticket booth. Impa’s laugh was her acquiesce, and after paying the nominal fee she and Link joined with a group of people embarking on the next tour.

The sideshow was nothing spectacular, in Impa’s opinion; while the creatures were rare for this part of Hyrule, she had seen all of them. Link, however, had experienced them only as drawings in his schoolbooks. He stared wide-eyed at each creature while the showman rattled on about various qualities, and reenacted the animals’ behaviors. The creatures themselves stared blandly through the bars of their cages, or paced restlessly.

The sideshow was divided into two sections by a thick wall of cloth, and at the start of the second the showman paused his tour group to explain in a hushed voice, “Beyond this curtain lies this land’s most wondrous--and dangerous--creatures: _monsters._ Please take care when you look upon these creatures, for they are as wily and deadly as they come!”

The crowd shifted with nervous laughter and a few excited murmurs. They began to filter into the next tent, led by the showman. Impa didn’t follow them, for her hand was held fast by Link’s shaking grip. She crouched down and ran her free hand across the boy’s cheek. “We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”

Link’s eyes were trained on the open curtain. It was largely dark within it, but the sounds of the crowd could be heard. They were giggling and talking. Link swallowed hard and slid a step forward, releasing Impa’s hand as he did so.

The sound of a long howl stopped the boy dead. The crowd screamed with surprise and excitement, and Impa’s eyes whipped towards the curtain on an instinct; seeking danger before her mind reminded her there was none. She relaxed and put a hand out for Link, but discovered only empty air.

“Link!” Impa gained her feet and searched the immediate area. The boy wasn’t in the tent. She backtracked along its shadowy length, earning stares from the animals, and ran out into the sunlight and pressing crowds. “Link!” she called again to no answer.

Link would have avoided the crowd. Probably. Maybe. Impa banked on it and set out along the edge of the square where kiosks and stalls were lined up. It was ten minutes of searching behind and around each stall before a fruit vendor subtly pointed her to a small table covered by a cloth, and laden down by apples. Impa circled behind it, dropped to her hands and knees, and lifted the cloth. 

Link was seated with his back against one of the table’s legs. He had his arms wrapped around his folded knees, and he wouldn’t look at Impa. The Sheikah crawled under the table and dropped the cloth down to close her and Link back in. The noise of the crowd seemed to recede some, and Link lifted wet eyes to Impa.

“I’m proud of you,” was the first thing Impa said. Link blinked in surprise, and tears streaked down his cheeks. The Sheikah thumbed them away before pulling Link into her lap. She hugged him and laid her cheek on his head. “You came out with me and saw something new instead of lying in bed all day. And listen, it’s only the morning. We still have a lot of the day to fill up with new and fun things. So do you want to keep trying?”

After a pause, Link nodded against Impa’s chest. An hour later, he was helping her carry a picnic basket. They were going to have lunch by their favorite pond in Hyrule Field. It wasn’t a far walk from the edge of Castle Town; they reached it by noon, and Link took up an apple while Impa spread a blanket and laid out plates, silverware, and food. The gnawed apple core was tossed aside for the ants, and Link replaced it with a roast beef sandwich. Dessert was a slice of strawberry cake. After finishing his cake, Link began to pull off his shirt. Impa’s concern made him pause.

“You just finished recovering from your last illness, Link,” the Sheikah reminded him. “Let your stomach settle first.”

Link scowled and flung his shirt from his arms. Impa made a grab for him, but he rolled out of her reach, slipped down the wet pond bank, and vanished into the water with a small spread of ripples. He reemerged a few minutes later only to duck his head when he saw Impa’s hard look.

The dull sound of something impacting the water cut across the pond, and Link whirled around in place. He and Impa looked across the water to where a grey bird stood in the shallows on two spindly-looking legs. It was as tall as Link with a body that called to mind a heron, only thicker. An enormous, hooked bill swooped down from the bird’s head. It was dripping with water, and hanging empty.

Link paddled back to shore and scrambled to Impa’s side with wide eyes. She understood the look of fear in his expression, and she quickly soothed him. “It’s not a monster,” she assured the boy. “It’s called a shoebill. It’s a bird, Link--a normal bird.”

The shoebill half-spread its wide wings and speared its bill down into the water. 

“It’s trying to catch a fish,” Impa explained. Link’s hard grip loosened from her shoulder, and she watched him slip back into the pond quieter than before. “Don’t scare it, Link.”

Link sank beneath the water’s surface. He reemerged seconds later with a large, wriggling fish in his hands. Impa hissed at him to stop, but he ignored her and inched towards the hunting shoebill. The bird flared its wings when it saw Link draw near, and Impa began to make her swift, quiet way around the pond. The bird’s beak looked powerful enough to crack open Link’s head.

Said beak opened when Link stopped two feet from the shoebill. Impa paused, crouched behind high grass, and watched the standoff. The shoebill was still for over a minute; its large eyes studying Link intensely. The wings eventually relaxed, and one of the delicate legs stepped forward. Impa waited for the cry of pain when the shoebill’s beak snapped off Link’s fingers along with the fish, but no such thing happened. The fish vanished into the bird’s gullet, and it turned around and walked into the long grass. 

Impa relaxed only then. She had forgotten about Link’s unnatural affinity with animals. The boy smiled at her relief and followed the shoebill into the grass. He had already picked up much of Impa’s stealthy ways; the grass barely twitched. Impa followed him out of concern, and they paused together a few feet away from a cleared spot. 

Through the tall stalks, they could see the shoebill feeding one of two chicks. The chicks were fluffy with down, and their long legs were folded awkwardly under their bodies. The characteristic bill was already prominent, and it made the chicks top-heavy when they tried to stand.

The adult shoebill regurgitated Link’s fish for the larger of the two chicks, and Link giggled softly when the chick swallowed it whole. He gasped next when a second shoebill glided into the nest; the other parent. It offered the same chick some water from its gullet.

The smaller chick made a series of sounds like squeaky hiccups, but it was ignored in favor of its fellow. Link saw this, and he leaned forward on hands braced against Impa’s folded legs. He looked between her and the shoebill chick; his eyes begged her to do something.

Impa heaved a heavy sigh. “Oh, _min kilthei…_ It’s the beginning of the dry season, and each day brings less water and food for the animals. Now that one of the shoebills’ chicks is growing stronger than the other, they’re focusing all of their attention on raising on that one. If they try to raise both chicks, the whole family might starve.”

Link gasped and made as if to rush to the smaller chick’s aid, but Impa pulled him back and held him close. “You can’t, _kilthei._ You’ll scare the parents away, and then _both_ chicks will die. I’m sorry, Link, but there’s nothing that can be done. That’s nature.” 

The smaller shoebill chick voiced its squeaky calls again and tried to stand up. It wobbled on its weak legs, and its heavy bill toppled it over. The pathetic sight drove Link to bury his face into Impa’s chest, and she carried him out of the long grass. The boy sat on the bank and stared across the pond while Impa packed up the picnic basket. He was listless during the walk back to the castle, and he refused all of Impa’s offers to do something else; choosing instead to crawl into bed.

The coming storm broke just before dinner. Impa carried a tray to Link’s room while lightning flashed through the corridor windows. “Hey, _kilthei,”_ she greeted when she walked into Link’s room. “I have some salmon, cheese, and pumpkin soup for you. It’s your favorite, right?”

The steaming soup was perched on the tray alongside two slices of bread and a glass of milk. Impa lowered it to the bedside table, and Link’s nose emerged from beneath the sheet that covered him. It wiggled at the rich scent of the soup until Impa tapped it with a finger. Link snorted and retreated back under the covers to the Sheikah’s amusement. 

“Oh, I forgot your dessert,” Impa said with sudden awareness in her face. “Link, I’ll just be a few minutes. Try to eat something by the time I come back, all right?” She patted the covered jut of Link’s shoulder and hurried out of the room. When she returned, the bed was empty, the window was open, and the bowl of soup was tipped over. All of the salmon was gone from amongst the ingredients.

“No--” Impa rushed to the window and looked down. A stab of lightning showed small, bare footprints pressed into the muddy gardens. They led to the gate.

_“Link!”_ Impa screamed once. She rushed out of the room when she heard no answer. 

There was no time to waste with saddling a horse, and it would be harder to track the footprints at the animal’s speed. Impa instead raced through Castle Town and out into Hyrule Field. The footprints swung left, but Link wasn’t in sight. Impa took off along the trail, and soon recognized the path Link had run.

The pond’s surface teemed with ripples sparked by the falling rain. It made a hissing sound that contested with the low thunder in the distance. On the pond’s right bank, a young boy sat with an awkward baby bird in his lap. He was feeding pieces of salmon into its large beak.

Link stood up when Impa approached him, and the shoebill chick hung in his arms with its long legs held out in a stiff V. The long, clawed toes stuck up, and the chick squeaked. Both it and Link were soaked in rainwater.

Impa knelt down and shook her head. “Link…” She stopped when she saw Link’s arms tighten around the shoebill, and she rubbed at her forehead. When she spoke next, her words had a slight bite to them. “I know what this means to you, Link, but you can’t save everyone all the time.”

_“Mih alue ter,”_ Link replied in a quiet voice. 

He knew the Sheikan would wear her down, and it did. Impa’s hard look cracked a little when her lips twitched with a brief smile. “You want to try anyway?” She looked out across the pond, and her shoulders moved up and down with her sigh. “It will be your responsibility--feeding and all, do you understand? I’m serious--” She broke off when Link practically skipped past her, wearing a huge smile. “Link! I don’t want to see a mess, do you hear me? And once it’s on its feet it sleeps outside! Link! _Kilthei,_ you’d better be listening…”

#

“What happened to it?”

Link raised his head from the shoebill feather he had found by a nearby pond, and he was at once taken from his childhood days back to his current time; at the camp he and Ganondorf had made for another night on their journey. The campfire crackled in front of him, and a pot of soup simmered within it. Salmon and pumpkin soup, in fact. 

Link stretched out and rested his head against Ganondorf’s knee. “Her name was Cobbler, and she grew up healthy enough. She lived in the castle gardens for about four years until one day, around the start of the dry season, another shoebill flew down and visited her.” Link twirled the feather between his fingers. “They flew away together a few days later, and I never saw her again.”

Ganondorf reached over Link's head and traced the feather’s edge. It made a dry, whispery sound against his calloused finger. “Were you sad?”

“Of course,” Link answered. “But I knew she would make a good mother. She wouldn’t abandon her chicks.” His voice and expression said the opposite of the remark, and he was quiet for a while. “Impa was right. I couldn’t save everyone. I couldn’t even save one.”

He was no longer talking about shoebills. 

Ganondorf put a hand on Link’s forehead, and the panic building in the Hylian’s body smoothed out. “No one expects you to save anyone, but I’m sure Cobbler was grateful for the fact that you tried--and succeeded.”

Link offered no comment, but a quarter-hour later he tucked the feather into his hair tie before he sat up and leaned forward to spoon out the finished soup.


End file.
